


La Tasca

by diagonallyfunny



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AU, F/F, F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 07:36:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5859976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diagonallyfunny/pseuds/diagonallyfunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I saw a bar in D.C. and it happened to be Spanish. By pure coincidence, someone spoke to me in Italian outside of it, and my brain exploded. (D.C., especially Alexandria, is a really nice place. I highly recommend it!) This story doesn't take place there, though. Chapters shorter at first, will get progressively longer. I can't promise updates every day, but I'll do it when I can. Thanks for reading! (Cover art isn't mine)</p>
            </blockquote>





	La Tasca

**Author's Note:**

> Short, but I'll work on it!

Lovino Vargas hadn't been back to his home town in many years.   
It had been equally as long since he went by the name Lovino, as he preferred his middle name. Romano. It sounded more dignified. "The Son of Rome. Unfortunately Romano knew, regardless of what he wanted, the second he went back home that the old name would return to him and all of his old skeletons would fall out of the closet (not unlike he had). He snorted at the memory.  
Point being, Romano shouldn't have been surprised when he saw the new bar on Main Street. Of course the little town had changed while he'd been away, it wasn't like it was frozen in his 16th year, forever suspended in time until he returned. But it still stung a little to see the town had moved on without him. It was a pretty selfish thought, he knew that, but he felt entitled to his moment of childish behavior. This was the town he had grown up in after all. And besides, he hadn't come back on the best of terms. His impromptu return was only put into action because of a funeral. The wind, cold on the street and a sure sign of a harsh winter yet to come, blew through his hair and chilled the bares skin of his face and he sighed. His twin brother's husband, Ludwig Beilschmidt, had just lost his brother Gilbert. Older brother at that. Romano felt bad for Ludwig, even if he didn't outwardly approve of the man. He had been fond of Gilbert too, seeing him often at parties and Feli and Ludwig's house. The Vargases actually knew the Beilschmidts in childhood as well, but he hadn't been as close with them back then. No one really knew how Gilbert had died, but it had been sudden for sure. One morning Ludwig had woken up as usual and Gilbert just...hadn't. Gilbert's boyfriend, Matthieu, was a wreck. Everyone kept forgetting they were even dating, but for some reason Romano had never forgotton the timid blonde boy. He would have to drop by and see them later.  
Long story short, Romano was throughly depressed. Remembering the bar he had seen earlier, he decided to go and follow the slogan many of the adults had followed when he was a child. "If you see something, say nothing, and drink to forget." It was fucked up, but at least he had an excuse. He saw the sign before he even got to the door. It read "La Tasca" in scrawling font. The whole outside of the building had an elegant air, painted a dark mahogany and trimmed with a tan and cream color. Whovever owned the place had good taste, and had already won Romano's business. He stepped through the front door into dark, humid air.  
The inside was even nicer than the outside. Everything was tastefully decorated and classy; uncommon for the area. Of course it was Spanish. The only Spainard he had ever known was very smooth and clean, romantic and classy in nature. Not unsimilar to the building's design, he thought idley. Romano laughed bitterly. The man he was speaking of, Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo, had been his closest childhood friend (and crush.) He had never forgotton those green eyes...or the fact that Antonio hadn't even bothered to say goodbye or convince Romano to do otherwise when he left town at the young age of 16. No one had tried to stop him. For God's sake, he had practically grown up with Antonio. They had done everything together, and he hadn't even cared. He had been 18, he could have done something to stop Romano, could have done anything, but he chose not to. He didn't recognize the bartender, but that didn't bother Romano in the least. That meant no one would tell his family what he was about to do. He ordered a glass of the strongest alchohol they had and began to lose himself in the drink. Romano began to think more about the town, how everyone had always preferred Feliciano's happy and carefree attitude to his more moody disposition. Feli could paint better, sing better, smile better. Facing the facts, Feli was better than Romano. He just wished everyone wouldn't always throw it in his face.  
He was on his third glass now. The room was beginning to get a little fuzzy, but he kept drinking, desperately trying to forget it all, to get out of his own head. He could hear his grandfather in the back of his mind telling him to man up. "This is no way to solve your problems! Face them head on!" He hoped the voice would go away after the fourth glass. It disappeared around the fifth. This was bad, Romano knew that, he shouldn't pass out in a bar.  
He just couldn't bring himself to care.  
After that, everything went black.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
ROMANO

Waking up with a hangover is about the worse thing ever, especially when sunlight is streaming into your face.  
It feels a bit like someone is taking a hammer and slamming the nail pulling end into your temple while simitaneously slowly screwdriving something into the other. Then multiply the pain by several million. (so what if he was being a bit dramatic, it hurt)  
He went to turn back into the pillow and then paused.  
Pillow? Curtains? He was pretty sure the windows of the bar had been open, and was absolutely sure there hadn't been pillows. He sighed, reaching for his pocket. He would have to call Feli and tell him he'd been kidnapped. Again. Before he could wiggle his phone out of his skinny jean pocket, a man appeared in the doorway. He was tall, and relatively tan. Romano looked up to his face and-oh.  
"Hello Antonio."


End file.
